


Ghost

by aww_writing_no



Series: Winterhawk Week 2019 [6]
Category: Marvel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-27
Updated: 2019-09-27
Packaged: 2020-10-29 00:43:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 976
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20787773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aww_writing_no/pseuds/aww_writing_no
Summary: Clint meets the Winter Soldier about 12 years before he meets Bucky Barnes.For Winterhawk Week Day Six.





	Ghost

Clint was surrounded by bodies and thought he was going to puke. He closed his eyes, trying to breathe slowly through his mouth, willing away the nausea and trying his best to play dead. He really didn’t want to throw up right now - he was buried under a couple of his former collegues and would rather not add vomit to the list of body fluids he was covered in. 

He was trying to focus on slow even breathing when he felt some of the weight on him shift. Fucksticks. Martinez and Johnson were definitely dead, so the only reason they’d be moving would be if somebody moved them. 

He cracked an eye open and saw the tip of a black combat boot near his face. A very-much-not-SHEILD-issue black combat boot. Double fucksticks. 

The rest of the weight was removed from his back, and Clint felt himself being hauled upright by the back of his vest. Yup, Johnson had definitely cracked a couple ribs when he fell on top of him. He kept his eyes closed, willing his stomach to settle. 

When he opened his eyes, the sight before him was enough to make him finally throw up. He shook, spilling the contents of his stomach all over the chest of the man who was holding him up. Like Clint, the man in front of him was wearing all black combat gear. Unlike Clint, he was wearing a mask covering half his face and had an assault rifle slung over his shoulder. His hair looked greasy and unwashed, but the most remarkable thing about him were his eyes. His soot-covered grey eyes that were completely devoid of all emotion. 

Then Clint glanced at the arm holding him up and nearly choked on the remains of his own vomit. Scratch that about the eyes. “You’re not supposed to be real,” he whispered, almost to himself. 

Everybody knew the assassin with the metal arm was a ghost story to scare baby agents. The Winter Soldier wasn’t real. 

Except here he was, metal arm locked around Clint’s tactical vest, covered in puke, and eyes as blank as they’d been before Clint accused him of being a nightmare. 

The eyes continued to stare, and the Winter Soldier’s head turned slightly as if deciding what to do with a minor inconvenience. 

Clint wasn’t particularly surprised when a hand wrapped around his throat, cutting off his air. He was a bit surprised the guy wasn’t using the metal one to just crush his windpipe instantly, but maybe he liked to watch his victims suffer. 

Clint clawed at the fingers around his neck and kicked out at the Winter Soldier’s immovable form. It was mostly out of panicked instinct. He didn’t actually expect to survive this. All his teammates were dead and he was being choked by a guy out of legends. He clearly wasn’t one for leaving survivors or he’d be more than just a ghost story. When Clint’s vision began to go grey, he just wished he’d been able to say goodbye to Coulson. He’d be so disappointed in Clint, dying without saying goodbye.   
………

“Why did you spare me?” Clint asked Bucky Barnes the first time he met him. 

Bucky stopped to stare blankly at Clint, nearly causing a collision with Steve and Fury who were trailing behind, clearly arguing. 

“Who the hell are you?” he asked harshly. Steve’s head snapped up to stare at Bucky. 

Clint stuck out his hand. “Clint Barton, the Amazing Hawkeye, former SHIELD agent you decided not to kill about twelve years back. Not that I’m complaining, mind. I’m just curious.” 

Bucky took his hand tentatively, giving it a quick shake before dropping it to cross his arms across his chest. “I still don’t know who you are.” 

“Seriously, man? That’s some convenient amnesia.” 

Steve turned to glare at Clint. “He can’t help it,” he snapped. “He was brainwashed.” 

“Yeah, so was I,” Clint snapped back before turning his attention back to Bucky. “December ‘02? Warehouse on the outskirts of Paris? About thirty SHIELD agents trying to take down what we thought was an AIM bioweapons repository? Everyone taken out by an assassin with a metal arm and an assault rifle except for me?” 

It was Fury’s turn to glare at Clint. “You said the building exploded when you were coming back from taking a leak.” 

Oops. That sounded about right. When he’d woken up hours later in the warehouse, the Winter Soldier had been nowhere to be seen. Clint had checked the building for the bioweapons they’d been searching for, but like the assassin the freezers were empty and they were nowhere to be seen. After that, Clint had blown the building himself. Not like he could put “the Winter Soldier killed all my colleagues, but apparently decided to let me live” in a mission report. 

Clint shrugged. “It wasn’t a lie. I just left out the bit where I exploded it.” 

“And where you came face-to-face with the world’s most feared assassin and lived!” Fury shouted, hands balled into fists. 

“What, like you’d believe me?” 

Fury opened his mouth, likely to begin a very loud rant, when Bucky said quietly, “You threw up on me.” 

Three heads snapped around to look at him. 

“I picked you up and you threw up on me.” 

“You do remember!” Clint crowed, pumping his fist in the air. 

“I think...” Bucky hesitated before pausing and turning to Steve, “Remember when I made you ride the Cyclone on Coney Island?”

Steve smiled fondly. “Yeah, and I threw up?” 

“I think he,” Bucky paused and turned back to Clint, “you reminded me of that.” 

Clint’s eyes widened in shock. “I reminded you of Captain America? Where’s Nat? She’s never gonna believe this.” 

“That you threw up on the Winter Soldier?” Fury said. “She’s never going to let you live that down.”


End file.
